Wednesday, April 10, 2013

White Girl Troubles


 
It’s my destiny,
The miracle of death
Rests in me

Capital strings
Split my carbon atoms
From their nascent
Bliss

No wonder I feel
Insignificant—
Bleating the same damn
Cry for a victim-voice
With doey
(I’s)

Peace bitches,
I won’t be a lamb
Shuttled by dogs, gleaned
For wool—worth
Defined by a society
Who hates
Me

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